


Undine

by Huntraa2139



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, F/M, Light Bondage, OC likes to be spanked, Phone Sex, slight dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-08 05:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17380199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntraa2139/pseuds/Huntraa2139
Summary: "You know, I have to give you props for keeping your cool there.” Sam said, hanging up the phone in his hand as he stared at me.My heart dropped into my stomach as my fears of discovery came to fruition in the form of Sam Winchester, practically dwarfing the doorway with his broad shoulders and height. He looked pissed.No. He looked positively furious.Fuck.I’m screwed.





	1. I'm Screwed

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Little warning here, I'm not from Kansas. Never even been, so any locations or streets etc. are completely made up for the sake of the story. The town however, is real. I apologize in advance to anyone who has been there or lives there if you're upset or offended by anything contained. 
> 
> Please Please Please leave me feedback, I'm a little rusty! 
> 
> WRITE ON!

Every hunter knew it was better to hunt in pairs or groups than to hunt alone, most only did so when there was no other choice, if they were new to the hunting gig and hadn’t developed contacts yet, or if they were crazy. Granted, not all cases required more than one, a standard salt and burn ghost didn’t really require several people to handle but having more than one person often reduced the causalities. Logically, this judgement of deciding what was needed was made using a variety of data such as what was being hunted and what would be needed to bring the creature down. It wasn’t complicated for more seasoned hunters, using years of experience to justify the decision but for someone who was new to hunting, it could spell disaster. I knew it was stupid, knew it with every fiber of my being that what I was doing was reckless and stupid and would end badly whatever the result of it was, if I wasn’t careful. If it weren’t for the fact that I knew the Winchester brothers were away on a hunt a few states away and there was very little threat of them finding out what I was doing, I wouldn’t not be out here. I am though, reckless, stupid me driving away from the safety of the bunker and towards almost certain danger that lurked in a small town outside Topeka Kansas, chasing what I believed to be a case of the supernatural persuasion. To be honest, you can’t really blame me, the Winchesters had taught me a great deal about research, recognizing the normal from the abnormal by spotting key words and phrases such as ‘exsanguinated’ or ‘mysterious’. Some were bogus, but most were one of those things that go bump in the night. If it hadn’t been for their studiousness I wouldn’t have given the news articles I’d found a second thought, but they were thorough, and I was far too perceptive to ignore the signs of something hinky. A little over an hour and a half away from Lawrence, on the other side of Kansas, there was a small town called Council Grove where a mysterious rash of deaths had begun to crop up, specifically affecting newly married men. It appears within weeks of marrying they would be found dead, no signs of struggle and it looked like the tox screens came up negative for most paralytics or sedatives. Normally, one or two of these types of deaths wouldn’t raise any alarms, but in that small town there had been six in a nine-month period, way more than the national average. I had already laid the groundwork for myself by calling the local coroner’s office and asking a range of questions under the guise of a CDC official. Nine perfectly healthy, young men just went to bed one night and didn’t wake up the next day, the only unusual thing about their deaths was that they all died the same way, asphyxiation.  
Armed with a few books from the bunker library, my laptop and a few disguises I decided to drive over an hour and a half to check it out myself, intending to call the boys at the first sign that I couldn’t handle it by myself. Logistically, I had everything planned out so that 1. I wouldn’t require their assistance and 2. That they wouldn’t find out until long after I had returned to the bunker and if everything thing went well I would be there and back within two days. However, I know that even the best laid plans can fail so I left a note for them outlining where I was, what I was doing and how to reach me. Based on the conversation I had had with Sam last night, I knew that he would be less than pleased that I had taken off, so I hoped that the note would be enough to cool their jets until I returned. I suppose this is my way of proving to them that I am good for more than just research and being a glorified housekeeper. Ever since they had saved my life from an overly attached skin walker that had effectively blown my life to bits, I tried to prove myself as a competent hunter but for some reason they had never seen to take off the damn training wheels and let me join them. So here I am, driving the winding back roads of Kansas, windows down, music blasting and trying to drown out the ever-present feelings of guilt and anxiety by singing along. It was difficult to ignore though, thoughts of Sam’s face rising to the forefront of my mind, his lips pursed in disappointment and the spark of anger in his eyes. It was especially soul crushing when Sam was disappointed, especially since we had developed this weird relationship that had only recently evolved from a rather close friendship. Dean would rant and bitch for a few days and then would be over it, Sam would… to put it mildly, punish me. Punishment was a two-edged sword because on one hand he would the general raised voice, and long-winded lectures, but on the other…. Well the last time I had upset him I had ended up tied to his bed for hours, hovering on the edge of climax, begging him to let me finish. If I was honest, I would say it was my favorite punishment, and obviously I enjoyed it greatly. The thought of it had me shifting in my seat, his gravelly voice echoing in my ear and the ghost of his calloused fingers on my skin….  
“In two miles, turn left on Jennison Avenue.” The sound of my GPS interrupted my thoughts from its spot on my dashboard.  
“Just a little bit further.” I replied.  
****************  
Half an hour later, I pulled into the parking lot of a rundown hotel and parked my car in a poorly defined space in front of what looked like the motel office, or at least I assumed was the office based on the faded hand-painted sign someone had haphazardly nailed above the open door. I couldn’t see anything inside from my spot, the view obstructed by a hanging beaded curtain but from the neon sign in the window I knew it was open. I stepped out the car and straightened out my black graphic tee, patting the back pocket of my jeans to be sure my wallet was still tucked inside before walking over the door.  
“Hello? Anyone here?” I said as I used my hands to separate the curtain and step in.  
“Be right there!” A bubbly, feminine voice replied from somewhere at the back of the office.  
I stepped over to the counter and leaned against it with my forearms planted on its surprisingly clean surface, perusing the décor with curiosity. On the wall behind the counter I spied a series of photos, a few of the motel when it had first opened based on the freshly painted exterior and grand opening sign, others boasted a few buildings that I was obviously unfamiliar with and a more recent photo of a young couple in front of the aged motel I was standing in. The photos were clean, the wooden frames gleaming in the sunlight that streamed through the window and were obviously loved for someone to have taken the time to arrange them on the wall. It was homey and comfortable in a weird way.  
“Good afternoon! My name is Nora, how can I help you?” A young woman stepped out from behind a wall, a bright smile plastered to her face and smudge of what looked like dirt on her pert nose. She was fucking adorable.  
“Hi, name’s Mara. I was wondering if you had any rooms available?”  
“Absolutely!” Nora’s face lit up as she looked at me, her bright blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Her smile was infectious and I found myself returning it as she crossed the room and stepped behind the counter. “We just finished renovating a couple of rooms, you’ll actually be the first to stay in one!”  
Nora turned away for a moment, grabbing a large fabric covered book and placing it in front of me, she opened it to a page with the date scrawled in the corner and handed me a pen. “Pardon our appearance, we just bought the property and have been working on sprucing it up.”  
I took the pen and wrote my name in the guest book, making sure to document the name on my fake license so they would match. “I don’t mind, I’m doing some work in town and this place was nicer than some of the ones I had seen a few miles back.”  
“You’re here for business?”  
“Yup.” I didn’t divulge any details, even though I could feel her practically vibrating with curiosity.  
“Don’t get that out here very often, how long do you plan to stay?”  
“Two days max, I’m hoping to make this a quick trip, so I can go home.”  
“Alright, I’ll put you down for two days in room four. Check out is at 11am, but if you need more time, feel free to call the office and let me know.”  
“Will do.”  
I finished filling out the guest log and handed her pen back, grabbing my wallet from my pocket so I could give her my ID and credit card. The bubble of anxiety in my chest welled up nearly choking me as I watched her check them.  
“Everything seems to be in order, Ms. Hanniger. Thank you for stay with us and have a fantastic day!”  
“You too!”  
I gave her one last smile, nodding as I put my cards away and stuffed the wallet back into my pocket. As I exited the office I looked around for the room numbers and spotted the number four a couple doors down, thankfully that meant I wouldn’t have to move the car and could just haul all my stuff down there. Good exercise. Blech. I slid the key ring up my index finger and walked back to my car, I popped the trunk of my car and began pulling the few bags I had brought with me, shouldering the straps and carried them to the front door of my room. The external of my room wasn’t much to look at with the faded red paint peeling away in curling ribbons and the brass number plate nailed into the doorway rusted and gleaming dully in the afternoon sun. I was in loath to see what the inside had in store, even though Nora had said they had recently renovated it.  
Inserting my key into the doorknob, I swung it open, the smell of fresh paint and lemon pledge assaulting my senses as I groped the wall for the light switch and flicked it. The overhead lights flickered on revealing a room that was larger, cleaner and nicer than I was expecting. It was arranged to look like two separate rooms with a tall wooden divider as the privacy wall between them and was decorated so that the far side of the room was a bedroom and the side closest to me was a living room of sorts. The walls were cream colored with crisp white crown molding along the seams of the ceiling and floor, a matching plush carpet that I was sure they were going to regret in a few years, and rather comfortable looking furniture. The furniture itself looked new with dark brown fabric and dark colored wood, the couch decorated with a white throw blanket and decorative pillows embroidered with bright colored flowers. They had even put in a large screen tv atop a dark wood stand that had a mini fridge and cabinets installed into the front, and a series of plugs along the top. The walls were decorated with what I would refer to as Bed, Bath and Beyond art, designed to accent the space without really adding any substance. I dropped my bags by the door and kicked it shut with my foot before crossing the room to the bedroom on the other side of the divider and was happy to find a queen-sized bed situated between two dark colored bedside tables, one baring the usual oversized lamp and the other a standard plastic telephone. I eyed the bed, hoping that it was as comfortable as it looked with a plush looking duvet and plump white cased pillows, but there was still room prep to do before I could crawl between the cool sheets. Just as the boys had taught me, I poured a line of salt in the window and at the door, searched the room for anything out of the ordinary and stowed a small handgun under one of the pillows for emergencies. Once done with that, it was time to change from my travel worn skinny jeans and black tee to a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, luxuriating in the comfort of loose comfortable clothes. I pulled my shirt over my head as my phone began to vibrate on my covers of the bed, a yawning pit of dread opening in my stomach as I saw who it was calling me. Sam. Fuck.  
I knew he would suspect something was up if I didn’t answer the phone, but for a hot second I contemplated not answering it. “Hello?”  
“Hey, just checking in. We’re crashing back at the room a little early tonight, how’re you doing?”  
I fought the shaking in my hands as I spoke. “Oh you know, bumming around the bunker, doing research, lazing about in bed. How bout you?”  
“I’d rather be there.” He replied drolly.  
“That good, eh?” I laughed softly. “Dean there too?”  
“Nope, took off the for the bar the minute we got back.”  
“So… what you’re saying is that you’re alone… in a motel room.” I curled a lock of my chestnut colored hair around my finger, a sly smile curling the edges of my mouth.  
“I am.” His tone was almost curious as he replied.  
“Would it be too cheesy to ask what you’re wearing?”  
“No, but the answer would be rather boring.”  
“Lemme guess, jeans, t-shirt, flannel and boots.”  
“Am I really that predictable?” He laughed. “And you must be in sleep pants and a tank top.”  
“You got me!”  
“Are you in your room?” His voice dropped, the sound gravellier and huskier.  
“I could be.” I teased. “Is that where you’d like me to be?”  
I could hear him as he shifted, the clunk of boots hitting the floor and the harsh metal screech of old mattress springs coming through muffled. “Go to your room, take off everything.” The tone was firm, commanding and brooked no argument.  
“Yes, sir.” I said back, keeping a teasing note in my voice.  
“For the rest of the night, you will refer to me as sir. Once you’ve stripped, I want you to lie in your bed, tell me when you’ve done this.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Desire pooled in my lower abdomen as I listened to him, swiftly stripping the clothes I had just put on and laid back down in the bed. “I’ve done what you asked, sir.”  
“I want you to put me on speaker so you can hear me.”  
I placed the phone on speaker and put it on the bedspread, waiting for the next order. “Roll your nipples between your fingers, pinch them.”  
“Yes, sir.” My voice sounded breathless and I raised my hands and placed the index finger and thumb on each nipple and gently pinched them, careful of the metal bar that pierced them. Sparks of pleasure zinged from my breasts to that soft place between my thighs, not enough to put me over the edge but enough to build the pleasure.  
“What are you feeling? Don’t hold back those moans.”  
“Sir, I wish it was you touching me.”  
“Where do you want me to touch you?”  
“Everywhere, sir.” I panted softly.  
“More specific. Do you want my hands on your breasts? Kneading the soft skin, pulling on your bars? Maybe you’d prefer my mouth, kissing your neck, down your chest.”  
I pictured his dark head nestled in the curve of my throat, his lips pressed into the hollow of my neck, his tongue dipping into the space between my collarbones. In my mind it was his large calloused hands clasping my breasts, and I arched my back at the thought.  
“I wish it was your mouth on my breasts, your hands on my thighs, sir.”  
There was a soft exhalation of air before he spoke again. “Take one of your hands and slowly trail your fingers down your stomach. Imagine it’s my hands pushing your thighs apart.”  
I dipped my right hand along my body, following the line of his thoughts as I reached the patch of chestnut curls between my thighs, picturing his hands pushing my thighs apart, the warmth of his breathe on my most intimate place.  
“May I touch myself, sir?” I asked softly.  
“Yes. Slowly circle your clit with your fingers.” His voice washed over me as I did what he said, spreading the lips of my cunt and making lazy circles around my clitoris with my middle finger. Tension began to build in my chest, my nipples erect and aching, my thighs contracting with burgeoning pleasure. God how I wished he was with me.  
“Keep talking baby girl, tell me what you’re doing.”  
“I’m touching myself like you asked sir.” I panted softly, a moan locked in my throat.  
“I wish I could taste you right now, hot and wet and ready for my fingers, my tongue, my cock.”  
“Are you touching yourself, sir?” I asked, needing more mental imagery to push this fantasy farther.  
“Yes, I’m imagining it’s your mouth wrapped around my cock.”  
A jolt of white-hot pleasure coursed through my veins, the idea of my mouth being stuffed full of him was so vivid I could almost taste the saltiness of precum on my tongue. I closed my eyes, imaging his face and hands, my finger swirling faster around my clit while my other hand worked on of my erect nipples. I moaned wantonly, feeling the muscles in my abdomen contract and my legs tense, I wanted to hold my breath and hold on to the intense feelings, wanted this to go on forever. I could hear him panting in the background, imagined his hand grasping and stroking his long cock, long calloused fingers passing over defined veins, his whole-body tense and vibrate. Sweat clung to every inch of my skin and I could practically smell my arousal as wetness collected on my fingers, I knew I was close to being done.  
“May I come, sir?” I asked, my voice shaking.  
“Not yet. Almost there.” I could hear the strain in his voice and knew that he felt that same deep, bone melting, end of the world pleasure that made your toes curl and body ache.  
“Sir!” I exclaimed, nearly squeaking with my impatience. “Please!”  
“Go ahead baby girl, I’m with you.”  
His voice was all the push I needed to fall over that edge, free falling into a state of absolute bliss that made every muscle clench and my back arch as though it would break. After I came down, I felt languid and more than a little sticky. On the other end of the line, I could hear him panting as though trying to catch him breath.  
“Was it good for you?” I panted out.  
He laughed almost breathlessly. “Yeah…” He paused for a moment. “I can’t wait to come home.”  
The pit of guilt I felt yawned wider. “I can’t wait for you to come home.”  
The euphoria I felt just moments ago faded quickly as the full weight of what I was doing crashed down on me. For a split second I wanted to tell him what I was doing, but after… this… I knew it wouldn’t go over well. “At most, it’ll be another week, we just picked up another case close by. Think you can wait that long?”  
“Pfft, I have the willpower of a nun.” I scoffed.  
“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to keep tempting you.”  
I laughed. “Sounds like a plan, I’m gonna go take a shower.”  
“Me too, talk tomorrow?”  
“Absolutely.”  
I hung up the phone, my heart heavy, but my body wonderfully boneless. I laid there, the phone in my hand and closed my eyes, attempting to regain that peacefulness and harden my resolve to keep moving forward. There was a case here, people needed saving from whatever was plaguing this small town and I wanted to prove that I could handle myself, if only to myself. Taking a deep breath, I sat up in bed and scooted off the side, deciding that I wasn’t lying to Sam when I told him I was going to take a shower. I felt a little gross, covered in sticky sweat and my own slick, but it had been worth it. Crossing to the bathroom door next to the dresser on the other side of the room, I opened it and took in the most beautiful sight I had ever seen in my life. A full bathtub big enough to completely immerse myself. I thanked whatever deity reigned above that I had had the thought to bring my bathing kit, complete with my favorite bubble bath. I switched on the light and went over the tub, turning the knobs so that hot steamy water poured from them, vapor curling up from the slowly filling tub. Letting out an excited squeal I went back into my room, grabbed my bathroom bag, a portal speaker and my phone and returned to the bathroom. A bubble bath was just what the doctor ordered. Pulling out the bottle, I poured a sizeable portion into the spray and went to the counter to set up music, deciding that a little classical was just what I needed to relax.  
The sounds of Mozart spilled out from the speaker as I sank into the practically boiling hot water, my skin prickling at the sensation as I slid down and settled against the back wall, watching the water rise over the tops of my thighs. Today, I would pamper myself with a hot bath and a good night’s sleep, tomorrow would hopefully bring answers to the questions I had.  
******************  
I woke the next morning bright and early, grunting as the alarm on my phone blared. I had slept deeply, enjoying the relative peace of being out and was in loath to rise from the depths of one of the more comfortable places I had ever slept. There were things to do however, and I must part with my one true love, sleep. Rising from my bed, I groped for the switch to the lamp and flipped in on, wincing as bright light hit my sleep ringed eyes. I reached for my phone on the bedside table and flopped back down on the bed, shutting off the alarm and checking the usual apps as I slowly woke up. Sam and Dean had both texted me letting me know about their plans for the day and when to expect them to check in to which I responded with an affirmative reply. As the cobwebs of sleep began to unravel from my sluggish brain, I rose once more and slipped out of bed, cursing the lack of coffee machine in this otherwise wonderful room. I needed caffeine. Badly. Preferably mainlined into my arm.  
I dressed quickly in a plain black pencil skirt, a white button down and a matching black blazer, and rolled a lint roller rather aggressively across the lapels to remove the tiny pills from them. The effect was professional, determined and just the slightest bit sexy when I added a pair of two-inch matte black heels and a pair of sheer thigh highs. To complete the look, I clipped a plastic badge stating my name with a recent picture and the CDC logo, hoping that no one would look to hard at it or that anyone would look her up. I walked into the bathroom, sending a longing look at the tub before turning to face the large mirror over the sink. I almost groaned at the state of my chestnut curls and regretted having slept on wet hair as it was going to be rough to not only brush the unruly mass but to style it in such a way that complimented my face. I let out a deep sigh and gave into the inevitable, pulling a large brush, bobby pins and a couple of heavy-duty hair elastics from the bottom of my faded bathroom bag. It took me nearly twenty minutes to yank and gather the mass into a serviceable donut bun that rested low on the back of my head, pulling a few strands to curl around the curve of my face. I hated having my hair up like this, I couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t my imagination, but I swear I could feel the capped ends of the bobby pins sticking into my sensitive scalp, it was extremely irritating but with the outfit, it was called for. Next came a mask of what others would call natural make-up with lines of kohl around my cinnamon colored eyes, and a few pats of pale brown eyeshadow around my hooded eyelids. I kept it simple, wanting to just enhance what I already had, not to do a full routine requiring a metric ton of make up and two hours of Youtube tutorials. I dusted the round of my high cheekbones with a light blush and swiped a Chapstick across my full lips, finishing an appropriate war paint look. Well, war paint for an office space.  
“You can do this.” I said to myself, leaning back from the counter and straightening my blazer. “You will do this.”  
One deep breath and I was off again, grabbing a purse that I had haphazardly stuffed my wallet into the night before and making sure to have the keys to both my car and the motel room in my hands before stepping out the door. Today I planned on going down to the local coroner and discussing each of the victims, hopefully the report would be more detailed and would narrow down the list of suspected creatures. I slid into the driver’s side of my car, throwing my purse on the passenger side and turning the key in the ignition, it was go time… after a stop at the local caffeine hotspot.  
*************  
I made it to the hospital where the local coroner and morgue was located just after 9:30am, girded with a Styrofoam cup filled with steaming hot coffee and can-do attitude. I rolled up to the front of the building, looking out the windshield at the rather bland exterior of what had to be the most stereotypical county hospital I’ve ever seen. It stood roughly six stories high with lines and lines of black lined windows that sparkled in the morning sun, and was a boring shade of taupe that neither stood out nor blended in. I had a nagging feeling that the inside was going to be just as boring as the outside. I grabbed my purse from the passenger’s side, snagged my cup of coffee from the cup holder and exited the car. I could feel the thump of my heart as it picked up speed, the weight of what I was about to do crashing down in waves of anxiety making my hands clammy and shake as I closed the car door and locked it with the key fob. The staccato click of my heels on the pavement sounded like the tumblers of a lock snapping into place, which felt appropriate, at any point before this I could have walked away and returned to Lawrence, but now… now I felt like I had to go through with it. I walked through the revolving front doors of the main hospital and strolled up the information desk as if I belonged there. A stout, older looking woman sat in a computer chair behind the front counter, her eyes focused on a computer screen I couldn’t see. She looked up as I approached the desk and offered a friendly smile.  
“How can I help you?”  
“Hi, I’m expected in the morgue, could you point the way?”  
“May I see some ID?”  
“Of course.” I returned her smile and unclipped the badge from my lapel, handing it to her.  
She looked at it for only a moment before handing it back to me. “If you head down the hall to the staff elevators, it should take you down to the lower levels.”  
“Thank you.”  
I walked away with a nod and another smile, heading towards the hall she had indicated and taking a small breath of relief when she could no longer see me. It actually amazes me how little most administrators pay attention to things like official IDs, Dean was right about them just waving you through most of the time. I was past the first hurdle, with the big test right around the corner, or down in the bowels of the hospital I should say. I spotted the elevator fairly quickly as the end of the hallway grew close, a few people in white lab coats and scrubs were congregated around the entrance indicating that it was on its way to this floor. I stopped by the group of chatting people.  
“Going up or down?” I asked.  
“A little bit of both.” A lady with long black hair and glasses replied. “Have we met before?”  
“Don’t think so, I’m Mara Hanniger from the CDC.” I held out my hand, using my best smile to dazzle her.  
“Oh! Dr. Jones mentioned that someone was coming down today. Does the CDC think there’s something to investigate?” The woman took my hand, shaking it briefly.  
“Don’t know yet, just a routine investigation to see if there’s anything to worry about.”  
“Odd though, the FBI is supposed to be stopping by later today as well.”  
A flash of fear struck me. I made a mental note to be gone before they arrived. “I hadn’t heard anything about FBI, probably had the same thought as us.”  
“Maybe. Well, it was nice to meet you!”  
The elevator dinged, indicating that it had arrived for anyone that was going up. The group began to disperse as a few of the people entered the elevator, I stood awkwardly waiting for the other elevator to arrive as people waved their good mornings. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long as the elevator doors opened and the rest of the group loaded into it, I waited until everyone else had gotten on before joining them, sticking close to the front so I could get off first. I hated elevators. They were cramped, always smelled vaguely of urine and were basically metal deathtraps held on by thick cables, it was only a matter of time before they crashed. The car jostled as it made its way to the lower levels, the doors creaking open as it stopped and dinged once more. I tried to make my exit as graceful and quick as possible, making sure not stumble or trip as I turned and walked down the hall, searching for any sign of where I was going. I spotted the sign indicating the coroner’s office and swiftly made my way down the hall. I poked my head in and saw an older gentleman sitting behind a desk, his graying head tilted down towards his desk, obviously focused on whatever file he was reading.  
“Dr. Jones?”  
The man looked up at me, bright blue eyes wrinkling in the corners as he tried to place my face. “Yes? Do you need something?”  
“My name is Mara Hanniger, we spoke on the phone.”  
“Ah yes, the lady from the CDC, correct?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
I entered the room and raised my arm, presenting him with my hand so that he could shake it, he stood and smiled, taking my hand is his firm grasp. “Thank you for coming, although I’m not sure what you expect to find.”  
“Neither do I, but when young men start dropping like flies, we like to check in.”  
“Yes, I see. Please, sit.”  
He released my hand, gesturing to an open chair on the other side of his desk in his rather cramped office. “Sorry about this mess, but I don’t exactly get a lot of visitors, don’t really need a lot of space.”  
“It’s no problem.” I smiled and crossed to the chair, running my hands over the back of my skirt as I sat down.  
“So do you want to go over all the files? Or just the most recent ones?”  
“I saw copies of the autopsy reports for the first two, but you mentioned that they were all similar. Are these most recent ones also the same?”  
“Yes, the most recent one was about three weeks ago and presented with the same cause of death.”  
“What made you keep the files anyway? Was there something strange?”  
“It wasn’t until the second gentlemen came through that I though to hold on to the files.” He shuffled through some papers on his desk before handing me a notebook filled with scribbles. “Their deaths were odd.”  
“Odd how?”  
“Well, at first glance it looks like they were drugged, since healthy men don’t just croak in their sleep without reason, but, as I mentioned, there weren’t any drugs in their systems and no signs of any kind of struggle. It wasn’t until I did the autopsies that I saw what had killed them.”  
“What was that?” I asked, flipping some of the pages of the notebook.  
“Asphyxia related to respiratory arrest.”  
I looked up, confusion apparent on my face. “They just stopped breathing?”  
“That’s what it looks like, there were no signs of a struggle, no fibers in the throat or lungs, no sign that they were poisoned or drugged. They just went to bed and stopped breathing.”  
“You wrote here that you suspected a brain injury…”  
“Oh! Yes, I almost forgot! When I was working on their autopsies, all the men showed signs of a traumatic brain injury.”  
“Wouldn’t there be signs of a head wound?”  
“You’d think so, but again, no. There was no damage any of the surrounding areas, the skull was intact, and there was no sign of bleeding or bruising. With this kind of damage though, they should have experienced symptoms, such as seizures or pulmonary hypotension.”  
“How recent would the injuries had to have occurred?”  
“These were within a few days of death.”  
“So they had damaged brainstems and asphyxiated without any outward sign of injury? How does that happen?”  
“I have no idea.”  
“Would you mind if I took copies of the other reports?”  
“Not at all, if you can figure out this mystery I would be interested in hearing how it happened.”  
I nodded handing him back his notebook. “Thank you so much for taking the time to see me, Dr. Jones.”  
“Anytime, Ms. Hanniger.”  
I watched as the older man stood up, taking the files with him, presumably to make the copies I had asked him for, and walked out the room, leaving me with more questions than answers. What kind of creature can cause a brain injury without touching any part of the skull? And why do they leave them, for lack of a better word, breathless? I knew I would have some research to do. I considered talking to the wives, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that they weren’t involved in their own husband’s deaths, not to mention, it would be rather odd for a CDC official to do so. Not to mention the FBI agent or agents I had heard were coming to talk to Dr. Jones as well, I didn’t want anyone suspicious of my intent here and that was a one way ticket to a felony charge should I get caught.  
“Here you go.” Dr. Jones returned to the room, handing me a thick file with all the copies I had asked for.  
“Thank you again, here’s my card should you think of anything else.” I handed him a business card that I had printed up just for the occasion, my name and cell number along with the CDC information printed formally upon it.  
“I’ll let you know.”  
I took the files from him and waved as I walked out the door, returning to the elevator with a thousand thoughts burning in my head and a curiosity that begged to be sated. On autopilot, I barely noticed the empty elevator trip back to the lobby floor or the walk back out to the help desk until I heard the woman behind the desk speak.  
“What can I help you with today?”  
“We’re here to meet with Dr. Jones. Can you point us to his office?”  
Oh god. Oh no. I know that voice. I wish I didn’t. In a split second, I veered left and hid behind one of the support pillars, grabbing my cellphone from my purse and placing it against my ear as though I had suddenly gotten a call. I turned my back to them, hoping that neither of them would look too closely. Sam and Dean were here. This was the case that they had picked up which to my adrenaline flooded brain didn’t make any sense, since Sam had said they had picked up…. Oh. He meant close to home. Oh no.  
“Are you here with the CDC as well?”  
“Uh… no ma’am. We’re actually FBI.” Dean said, smoothly covering for his momentary confusion.  
“Alright, well, if you head down that hallway over there, there will be an elevator to take you straight down to the lower levels. Can’t miss it.”  
“Thank you.” I heard Sam say.  
My heart thundered in my chest, threatening to burst through my ribs as I heard their footsteps drawing closer, I pressed the phone harder to my ear and turned away as they walked past.  
“We’ll have to be careful if the CDC is here too.”  
“Glad we didn’t use those badges today.” Dean laughed.  
“Let’s just get this over with. I wanna get back to the hotel and change.”  
“Uh huh… you sure it isn’t because you wanna call Mara?”  
I didn’t hear Sam’s reply as they disappeared around the corner, but I did blush a little at the thought of Sam being impatient to call me. Once I knew the coast was clear, I moved from behind the pillar and walked to the front entrance, careful to keep my gait as normal as possible. Just a little farther and I was out the door, briskly making my way back to my car on the off chance that they might catch me. Once I was safely in my car, I allowed myself to take a deep breath, feeling the air rush into my starved lungs. If they were here, there was every possibility that I was fucked seven ways from Sunday.  
************  
I returned to the motel after a quick stop at the local grocery store, grabbing a bottle of red wine and quick fixings for a light lunch and dinner. Even with the threat of the boys finding me hanging over my head, I was in loath to tuck tail and run back to the bunker when this case was so fresh in my mind. I suppose I would have to try to be careful if I was going to run under their radar. Was it reckless? Yes. Was it stupid? Yes. Could it have bad, potentially heart-breaking consequences? Triple yes. But I knew what the risks were when I had decided to come all the way out here. I parked in front of my room, gathered up my grocery bags and the case files and got out of my car, glad to be in a safe spot away from the Winchesters. I entered my room, checking the salt lines in front of the door and in the window sill and dropped my bags by the door as I had done with my luggage. Next, I kicked off my heels and stretched my poor sore feet, and it felt absolutely amazing, kind of like when you take your bra off after a long day. I stripped off my blazer as I crossed the room, dropping it on the end of the bed while still holding the files in my hand. I opened it, holding it with two hands, and began to read, although it wasn’t anything I didn’t already know.  
“Signs of damage to the brainstem…” I said softly to myself, trying to work out how one would receive that kind of injury without any other noticeable signs.  
I dropped the open file on my bed and went back to the door, rummaging through my duffel for the books I had borrowed from the library, as well as grabbing the grocery bags and returning to the bed. I crawled onto the bed that I had thankfully made this morning before leaving, and turned the files towards myself, placing the books next to them for easy cross reference. As I read from the reports, I opened one of the sandwiches I had purchased from the deli and began to eat.  
“Asphyxiation related to brain injury. Suspected foul play or underlying medical condition.” That’s interesting.  
I guess my first step for creature research was to find supernatural beings that either suffocated their victims magically or caused magical brain injuries that made them stop breathing. I suppose that narrowed down the results, although I wasn’t sure by how much. I started by doing a quick google of supernatural creatures that killed by suffocation on my phone, and what resulted was both way too much information about supernatural creatures or not nearly enough about suffocating ones. I figured I could make notes about the ones I suspected and then do the book research after, narrow down the results that way. Grabbing the pen and paper from the bedside table I started to make bullet notes:  
1.) Strigoi- Romanian, drains victims of vitality. Could they take your breath away?  
2.) Sihyanaba- Central American, lures men into danger  
3.) Estries- Jewish female vampire? Preys on men.  
4.) Succubus- Female demon that feeds on sleeping men  
5.) Undine- Female, preys on men  
Five was a good start. Hopefully, it would point me in the right direction. 

***********  
A few hours later found me elbow deep in research, the case file spread over every available space with one of the huge books open in my lap. I had already ruled out the Sihyanabana since it didn’t seem to suffocate or asphyxiate their victims and the Estries as well, since apparently there were no such things as sexist type vampires. Strigoi were still on the table, although they were iffy at best, it could definitely be a succubus although again I hadn’t seen much research on how they fed other than through dreams. I hadn’t even gotten to looking at the Undine yet, but they were promising. I was disturbed from my research by my phone ringing in my hand. I had forgotten it was there. I barely looked at it before putting it to my ear.  
“Hello?”  
“Hey, checking in again.” Sam’s voice came across the line.  
I froze. “Oh hey! How’s it going?”  
“Working a case, you know the deal. What are you up to?”  
“Nothing much, just reading.” I bit my lip. It was a lie. I knew it but I could only hope that he couldn’t tell.  
“What are you reading?”  
My heart began to pound again. “Nothing much, just thought I’d catch up on some lore.”  
“That’s good. You in your room?”  
“Yeah.” I hoped my voice didn’t sound strained.  
He paused for a moment, I could hear wind in the background and sound of a closing car door. It sounded as though he was either going somewhere, or had just come from somewhere. “So what are your plans tonight?” I said, trying desperately to keep my cool.  
“I don’t know yet, I think Dean is going out. I thought maybe I’d just hang out at the motel for the night, talk to you.”  
“Sounds like fun!” I replied brightly.  
The sound of a knock on my door startled me, I jolted from my spot on the bed and prayed that Sam hadn’t heard it. “Hold on Sam, I just dropped my book.”  
I held the phone in my hand as I cleared the bed of case files, placing them and the food in a bag and moving it to the other side of the bed. I crossed to the door, wondering who would be knocking at my door. I damned the lack of peep hole as I grasped the knob and pulled the door open. I looked up and dropped my phone to the floor with a hard clatter.  
“You know, I have to give you props for keeping your cool there.” Sam said, hanging up the phone in his hand as he stared at me.  
My heart dropped into my stomach as my fears of discovery came to fruition in the form of Sam Winchester, practically dwarfing the doorway with his broad shoulders and height. He looked pissed. No. He looked positively furious. Fuck. 

I’m screwed.


	2. Screwed, but more literally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how you liked it!   
> I'm a little rusty, haven't been writing in a while. 
> 
> Thanks for checking it out!   
> One more chapter to go! 
> 
> WRITE ON!

Like, really screwed.   
It was one thing to face the supernatural unknown, but it was quite another to face down the fury of a Winchester alone, especially Sam who was glowering at me from his lofty height. Words failed me as he brushed past me into the room. What could I say to defend myself? He told me to stay out of hunting, that I wasn’t ready, and I had defied his direct order. I understood his anger, even if I wasn’t thrilled to be on the receiving end.   
“How...” I started, closing the door and turned towards him.   
“How did I find you?” Sam asked, his eyebrows raised. “Hospital security cameras caught you going down to the coroner’s office. I almost didn’t spot you at first, and it wasn’t an especially good image, but when you didn’t answer your phone the four times I called, I had your phone tracked. Imagine my surprise when you’re here and not safe in the bunker.”   
“Before you say anything…” I started again, moving towards him but stopped when he raised his hand, showing me the palm of his hand.   
“No. Don’t. I don’t want to hear any excuses. I know why you’re here, I’m guess for the same reason we are, what I don’t know is why you didn’t call me.”   
“I was going to, if things got too hard, but I only just arrived yesterday.”   
“No, that’s not what I mean. Why didn’t you call me when you were planning this little stunt?”  
The tiniest spark of anger flared to life in my chest. “Why would I when you’ll just say the same thing you’ve been saying for weeks? Every time I bring it up, you brush me off or tell me I’m not ready like I’m a child.”   
“You think this proves that you are? You think going behind my back proves that you’re ready for the big bad world?”   
“What am I supposed to do? Stay in the bunker and be a good little housewife? I’m tired of being left behind, I want to help!” I couldn’t help the waver in my voice as I faced him.   
“How exactly were you going to help? By dying?” He scoffed.   
“I’ve barely been here one day, Sam, how do you know…”   
“Because I’ve been doing this since I was old enough to hold a gun. Because I’ve been fighting to live since I was six months old.” Same raises a hand and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hunting is more than just shooting guns and exorcism, Mara, it’s also about using your fucking brain. Coming out here alone was reckless and stupid.”   
“I’m not stupid, Sam.” I shouted, tears burning behind my eyes.   
“Could’ve fooled me.”   
“Oh, don’t be catty.” I placed my hands on my hips, fighting the growing urge to cry. “Do you trust me?”   
“This isn’t about trust. This about you, running headlong into danger without thinking about the consequences. I’ve seen a lot of good people die because of this life and I would rather not see it happen to you.”   
I squirmed, the guilt building alongside indignant anger, threatening to swallow me whole if I didn’t get a hold of myself. “I don’t understand why you can’t just let me tag along. What is going to take to prove I can handle it?”   
He was silent for a long moment as he stared at me. I could practically see the wheels turning in his mind as he considered what I had asked. I was almost afraid of the answer, afraid that he wouldn’t say anything at all and would send me back to the bunker. “If you want to help, you’re going to have to listen to everything Dean and I say. No more running off, no more lying. When we tell you to do something, you do it, no arguing.”   
Anger was fast overcoming the guilt I had felt, the spark fast becoming a raging flame. “And what if I say no? I found the case first, I was here first.”   
“Then your ass goes home, I don’t care who found it first.”   
“You’re not my father, Sam Winchester, I don’t have to do what you say. Why do you even fucking care?” I yelled back, realizing that the statement and question sounded more childish and bitchier than I intended it to be.   
“You will do what I say, or I swear I will take you home myself and make sure you stay there.” He pointed a finger at me as he spoke, his expression fierce.   
“Fine. I’ll just leave then.”   
I knew I was being irrational, I knew with every fiber of my being that I had derailed the argument to salvage what little pride I had left. I also knew that he cared about me, he wouldn’t be this angry with me coming out here if he didn’t. However, I am not the most intelligent person when I’m riled up. I huffed and turned back to the door, intending fully to walk out the door and find some place to cool down until I could talk without getting upset. I barely made it to the door, my fingers brushing the doorknob before Sam’s hands grabbed my shoulder and flipped me around, pinning me against it. All six foot plus of angry Winchester holding my shoulders against the door, his eyes burning.   
“We’re not done.” He growled. “Rules.”  
“What?” I asked, confusion coloring my tone.   
“Rules. What are they?”   
Understanding flooded me. “Green for go, yellow for unsure, red for stop.”   
“Color?” He said between gritted teeth.   
I thought about it, realizing that maybe this was a better idea than trying to run away from the problem. “Green.”   
His mouth crashed against my harshly, hot and wet moving against my own as though it was the last kiss we would ever have, and I joined in wholeheartedly. The kiss evolved into a battle for dominance, all teeth and tongues, bruising force and tightly controlled movement. I closed my eyes, tangling my fingers in his long, dark hair and pulling it, knowing how much he liked the stinging pain. I wanted more, needed more and whimpered when he finally pulled away from the kiss, both of us panting heavily.   
“Turn around.” His voice was gravelly and deep.   
“No.” I said, a smirk curling the edges of my mouth.   
“Turn around now.”   
Oh. Oh, that was the dangerous voice. The one he reserved for when I was being a brat. I knew I was pushing the boundaries of his control and I might regret it tomorrow, but it would be worth it.   
“No.”   
“Alright then.”   
He pulled back, standing to his full height and grabbed me around the waist, pulling me away from the door so he could heft me up and throw me over his shoulder. I squeaked in surprise gripping the back of his jacket for support as he turned and walked across the room, moving past the large divider and dumping me on the bed. I watched him pulling his jacket off, throwing it haphazardly on the floor and began undoing the buttons of his button up shirt. I watched as inches of smooth skin were exposed to my eyes, watched the muscles underneath jump and tic with each button undone.   
“You can get undressed now, or I can rip those clothes off but either way, they are coming off.” The flame of anger turned to arousal, pooling and spreading throughout my body.  
“Yes, sir.”   
I moved down the bed and stood. I joined him in undressing, untucking the bottom of my tailored shirt and pulling it over my head before discarding it on the floor. Next came the skirt as I unzipped it and pushed it to join the steadily growing pile of discarded clothes, I stood before him dressed only in my most comfortable light blue underclothes and a pair of thigh high stockings. If I’d know I was going to be punished by this Greek god of a man, I probably would have worn classier underwear, but going from the long measured look he gave me, I don’t think he cared. He stood in front of me, bare to my eyes from the waist up and covered only by an unbuttoned pair of slacks and navy colored boxer briefs. He smirked at me.   
“Leave the panties and stockings on, take the bra off.”   
“Yes, sir.”   
I complied with his order quickly, reaching behind myself to unclip the back and slide the straps down my arms until my breasts were bare and my bra was on the floor. My nipples hardened in the cool air of the motel room, the bars making the sensation more intense as the flesh around them contracted into little pebbles.   
“Turn around and place your hands on the bed. Keep your legs loosely locked.”   
I turned around and bent at the waist, feeling the stretch in my hamstrings as I soft locked my knees and arched my back to jut my ass out towards him.   
“I’m going to give you ten and you’re going to count every single one of them. If you miss one or refuse to count, I will start from the beginning again. If you scream or cry too loudly, I will gag you and we will start over again. Do you understand?”   
“Yes, sir.”   
“Color?”   
“Green.”   
“Good girl.” He cooed, stepping behind me.   
His fingers were warm as he trailed them down my lower back, brushing over the waistband of my panties before moving to the swell of my ass. I was practically vibrating in excitement, every muscle in my legs and stomach tensed for the first sting of his hand, but when it didn’t happen right away, I relaxed and turned to look at him. I had made eye contact when his hand smacked down on the lower curve of my ass, and realized that he had been waiting to deliver the first blow when I was most vulnerable.   
“I didn’t hear you count, baby girl.”   
“One!”   
His hand slapped down again, the act not actually hurting me, but leaving a burning sensation in the wake of his palm. It was a delicious heat that really got my engines revving for more. “Two!” I shouted, arching my back more and was rewarded with three slaps in quick succession, alternating between the cheeks. “Three! Four! Five!”   
“Half way there, baby girl. Just five more.”   
“Yes, sir!”   
My cunt clenched. His deep, commanding voice enough to make me gush in response. I panted at the thought of him inside me, his fingers curling or his cock pounding away at me and moaned as the next slap came down. The burn was getting more intense with each hit to the point where I could practically feel the cherry glow of reddened flesh, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sit down tomorrow without remembering those huge hands. I didn’t want it to stop, no matter the low grade pain or the brief humiliation that it produced. “Six!” He paused here for a moment, lightly massaging the sore cheeks and exploring the flesh exposed by my cheeky styled panties. It as soothing and also arousing with how close those long nimble fingers were to my core, building the anticipation of when those fingers would see fit to touch where I wanted it the most. I moaned, imagining them buried in my cunt but it turned to another squeak as his hand struck my ass three times more. “Seven! Eight! Nine!”   
“Alright, last one baby girl. I know you can handle it.”   
I nodded, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. “Ten!”   
The last smack felt harder than the rest, leaving a fiery imprint of sensation across the skin and spilling a few hot tears down my cheeks. I felt him sit down on the bed, pulling me sideways onto his lap so my legs were splayed across his legs and my head was pulled to rest against his shoulder. I panted into his shoulder, rolling his hips and pressing my bare chest against his own.   
“That’s a good girl, you did so well.” He crooned in my ear, his hands sliding up and down my back as he held me. “Are you okay?”   
I leaned back from his chest and stared at him. “Yes, sir.”   
He grinned, his hands sliding down to my hips. “Good, because I’m far from done with you.”   
Tangling my fingers in his hair again, I kissed him with a voracity I didn’t know I possessed, my lips slanting over his as though trying to possess them. He returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, any anger I had felt had melted away into a passion I wasn’t sure I could control, like a wildfire burning hot and fast. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer so my breasts were flattened against the hard planes of his chest, stimulating my need to touch and be touched. He pulled his mouth away from mine, pressing hot kisses along my jaw, following the curve to the hollow of my throat where my skin was sensitive. I tilted my neck to allow better access when I felt the nip of teeth on my skin and the hum rumble of appreciation.   
“Color?” he growled against my throat.   
“Green.” I whimpered.   
He moved swiftly, standing and turning, both of us tumbling onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and mouths, moans and sighs filling the air. The duvet felt soft and cool against my overheating flesh, a conflicting sensation to the heat of his body pressed to my front. Lips moved down against my skin, sliding down my neck to the space where my collarbones stood out against my skin, his tongue tasting and teeth rasping over them lightly. I felt calloused palms moving up from my hips as his mouth moved further down to the slope of my full breasts, I arched my back, my back of my head pressing into the mattress as his hands wrapped around the globes, raising them up for his mouth to taste. He pressed his mouth to one nipple, laving his tongue around the hardened flesh, carefully flicking the metal bar to intensify the sensations. If I had had any doubts about piercing my nipples, they were burned up in the flames of my excitement. With the opposite breast, I felt his rough fingers pinching the nipple until it felt like electricity was sparking down my spine like a live wire inside my body. I looked down at his dark head suckling at my breast, my hands pulling the soft strands lightly and felt almost amazed that his man was here. He lifted his head to look back at me, his moss green eyes filled with want and command, and he grinned softly back up at me. I moaned as Sam stopped stimulating my chest, his mouth down once more along the center line of my chest, kissing the breastbone and the hollow where the rib cage ended.   
“You’re always so soft, so responsive.” He whispered against my skin like a prayer. “So beautiful.”   
Hands moved back down my sides, moving over my hips, pulling the waistband of my panties down as he moved further down my body, worshipping every nook and cranny, every hollow and rise. I knew where he was going, what he intended to do and I was all for it. I placed my feet flat on the edge of bed, lifting my ass so he could pull my panties down over my ass and down my legs, pulling his rangy body up and pulling the panties all the way off, dropping them beside him. His hands gripped the inside of my thighs, pushing them further apart, settling my legs wide so that my most intimate place was exposed. I flushed as fingers moved up the inside of my thigh, brushing against the soft lips of my core, gently exploring the outer edges of me.   
“Color?”   
“Still green.”   
He knelt on the floor next to the bed, his upper body level with my cunt, his fingers still moving over the soft curls and making them tingle and engorge. It was a pleasant sensation, tingly but only a taste of what was to come as those same fingers split the folds to find the hidden treasure within.   
“Place both of your hands on the bed, I want you to remain as still as you can. You may make sounds, but don’t move.”   
I did as he said, gripping the duvet in shaky fingers and settling my body comfortably on the bed, my eyes on the ceiling but every bit of awareness was focused on the man between my legs. One finger slowly circled my clit, a teasing touch that made my cunt clench again, every nerve ending frayed with anticipation of what he would do next. I closed my eyes, seeing everything with my body and his fingers. I twitched at the first swipe of a blistering tongue over my clit but forced myself to remain still. It started slow, his tongue swirling and flicking, spelling out a language that both our bodies understood on a visceral level. Whimpers spilled from my lips, drowning in desire but limited to vocalizing it and focusing on keeping my body still. Orders were orders, and I loved when he ordered me around the bedroom. 

“More.”   
He lifted his head. “More, what?”   
Cheeky bastard. “More, sir.”   
He returned to his work, increasing in speed and intensity but this time, he included the use of two long finger, pressing through slick folds into my pussy and curling those same fingers so the tips rubbed along that one sensitive spot that drove me wild. I clenched around the finger as though trying to suck in deeper into the soaked canal, in response Sam scissored his fingers and slid it almost out before sliding back. The combination of his sinful mouth and the motion of his fingers sliding in and out of my body was overwhelming every nerve, an intense feeling building in my chest and spreading out through every one of my limbs. I looked down at his dark head between my thighs, licking and sucking and began to pant heavily. I was close, so close to reaching the pinnacle, and almost didn’t want it to stop, I wanted to keep feeling him until the world stopped turning.   
“I’m so close!” I sounded positively wrecked as I spoke.   
I could feel my body tensing, my hands cramping from the fingers being wrapped tightly in the blanket and my legs shaking from both restricted movement and my impending orgasm. Sam doubled his efforts, his fingers moving quickly against the secret place along the wall of my pelvis, his lips wrapping around my clit and sucking hard, obviously pushing my orgasm faster towards that end. I screamed and rolled my hips, my stomach rolling in waves as it finally crashed over me. I slammed my head back against the bed, my back arching to the point of pain and rushed headlong into this blinding light.   
When I came down finally from that fucking awesome high, I felt languid, as though every muscle in my body had died and gone to heaven. I didn’t think I could move if I wanted to with how absolutely relaxed I was, but as my body began to reboot I could feel Sam resting his arms and head on the spans of my hips. He was still kneeling on the floor but was resting the top half as he watched me through hooded eyes.   
“See something you like?”   
“Mm-hmm.” He hummed.   
“Why don’t you join me on the bed?”   
Sam grinned and moved to stand, stripping away the last of his clothes and joining me on the bed, pulling both of us to lay length-wise. I cuddled close to him, enjoying the heat of his skin against my fast cooling skin. Even as I lay there, recovering from one of the most intense orgasms I had ever experienced in my entire life, I let my eyes wander down his muscled body. He really an incredibly attractive man, his long rangy body covered in supple muscle and tanned skin, scars decorating every inch of him which I suppose normally would turn women off but to me… it was beyond sexy. It spoke of years of training and surviving, of fighting and protecting, I found it a beautiful artwork. I touched the tattoo over his left pec, tracing the lines and flares with my fingertips.   
“How’re you feeling?”   
“Very, very, very, very, very good.”   
“Just good?” He chuckled.   
“Amazing, fantastic, world-ending, orgasmic, brilliant, incredible. There aren’t enough words to describe how that made me feel.”   
I shifted in his arms, moving to straddle his thighs just below his cock and grinned down at him. “Words aren’t enough, but maybe I could show you.”   
He raised an eyebrow but placed his hands behind his head and grinned in response. I took this as a challenge and settled down, feeling the coarse hair of his legs tickling the inside of my thighs. I grasped his cock with one hand, wrapping my fingers around the width of the base and squeezing gently to get a feel for its size and weight. It felt like warm velvet in my hands, ridged with veins along the sides and longer than average at its full glory. I tentatively moved my fingers along the shaft, fascinated by how it felt in my hand. Circling it, I moved upward to the top, stopping to scrape my nail lightly along the edge when the head met the shaft, knowing that it was sensitive to stimulus. Sam groaned in response, and I grinned, I knew what he liked and fully intended to use the knowledge to my benefit. Next I slid my thumb over the curve of the head and gathered the small amount of precum that had beaded on the tip of it. I wasn’t going to do this for long, however, I wanted… no I needed him inside me. All that before was just an appetizer for the main course.   
“I need you inside me.” I said softly, running my hand up and down his cock a few times.   
“Ride me then.”   
I nodded. I shifted forward, not moving my hand from his cock as I straddled his hips and lined him up with my cunt. I could feel the fires of passion flickering again as I slid down, the stretch hovering on the edge of pain and pleasure but felt almost like coming home. It had been too long since the last time I had felt him inside me, too long since the last time I had felt so whole, so full, so fraught with excitement. I sat down, his cock fully seated inside my most sacred place, my hands splayed across the expanse of his chest as I looked at him. His eyes were closed, an expression of sexual desire across his chiseled features and moved his hands to grip my hips firmly, almost bruising the skin. His hands held me down as he adjusted to me wrapped around him, in response I rolled my hips, feeling him shift along that bundle nerves along the inside wall and moaned. I arched my back, my long hair, finally free from it’s pins and ties, falling down around me like a curtain of mahogany, spilling over my breasts and dragging the strands along my skin.   
“God, I missed this.” He groaned.   
“Shouldn’t have stayed away so long.” I teased.   
Sam’s grip loosened finally, now just resting on my hips, not encouraging but not holding me to his body as strongly as he had before. I flexed my thighs, tightening around his hips and rising up, feeling the drag of every vein, every nook and cranny, every inch of rigid cock moving along the inside of me. It was euphoric. It was intense. When I said that there were no words for what he made me feel, I wasn’t lying, but the feeling was more than sexual, it was physical, emotional and mental. He filled my body, my heart and my mind in every way. I perhaps should’ve realized it sooner, but there was every possibility that I was completely and irrevocably in love with Sam Winchester. I pushed back down on that thought, clenching and grinding against the appendage buried inside me, trying to wring every last sensation out.   
“Stop teasing.” He growled at me, his eyes clouded with lust.   
“Yes, sir.”   
I began to move faster, bouncing my hips up and down on his turgid length, moaning wantonly into the air. Sam shifted under me, sitting up without removing me from his lap, and wrapped his arms around my body, his lips finding mine and swallowing the moans that spilled forth. I was surrounded by his earthy scent, the taste of him on my lips and his skin sliding against my own as we mated. My nails scratched over sweat slicked skin as I rode him, his hands roved over my waist, hips and ass, just holding on as though his life depended on it. My heart thundered in my chest as that tight feeling returned to my body, each muscle tensing and cramping as another orgasm rose like a tidal wave over me, my back arching almost to the point of pain but enough for excruciating pleasure. I pounded down on him as it washed over me, trying to keep the feeling from fading, to ride it out as far as I could.   
Sam flipped us over, so my back was pressed to the blanket again, caged by the strength of his arms and broadness of his chest and shoulders, and still so absolutely full of him. I squeaked as he started to move again on top of me, dipping forward to press his lips against mine, his tongue mimicking the pattern of his thrusts. Wrapping my legs around his hips, I rose to meet his thrusts, to feel the press of him and feel his heartbeat as it pounded. The speed of his thrusts began to increase, his cock pounding into me with both force and speed, stimulating me all over again. I knew he was close from the faltering of his breath so I held on for dear life, his hips began to lose rhythm until he reached crescendo and I joined him for one last orgasm, the both of us spasming and moaning. I could feel the heat of his essence splashing against my walls from the inside out, could feel him begin to soften as we lay, his body nearly crushing me into the mattress. We lay there recovering for long moments before he rolled over and pulled me over to nestle into his side, his arm wrapped around me.   
“We’ll talk about the case tomorrow.” He said quietly, obvious still trying to catch his breath.   
“Mm-hmm.”


	3. Chapter 3

Sam and I lay cuddled in bed for a few hours, both too tired to think about the case or really anything at all, we both figured it would be better to work the case with fresh minds and rested bodies. I rose first, standing up from the bed and stretching my body with my arms raised over my head. I could feel Sam’s eyes roving over my naked back side and the idea of him watching me drew a smile on my face.   
“Like the view?”   
“Definitely, although I realize now that you might be a bit sore.”   
“Eh, nothing I haven’t experienced before.” I shrugged.   
I snagged my panties off the floor and slid them over my legs as Sam stood up, I stopped myself from looking at him as I crossed the room and scooped up his button down, sliding them over my arms and buttoned a few so it stayed on my body. I practically swam in the swathes of fabric, the bottom hem hovering somewhere around midthigh and the long sleeves falling a full hand length over my fingertips but it was comfortable and smelled strongly of Sam. I rolled the sleeves, snagged the bag of food and my files from the case from the side of the bed and returned to the bed as Sam was sitting back down, now dressed in his boxer briefs and nothing else.   
“You look good in my clothes.”  
“Funny, I was thinking that you look good out of them.”   
His eyebrows shot up, but the grin stayed. “Getting a little cheeky there, baby girl.”   
I sat down on the bed, spreading the files, notes and the meager amount of food I had purchased earlier on the bed, I broke open a bottle a water and chugged about half before handing the bottle to Sam. He was focused on the files I had gotten from Dr. Jones earlier in the day, absentmindedly pulling from the bottle until it was empty. I wondered what he was thinking as he perused my notes, finding myself nervous about his opinion and trying very hard to appear unaffected.   
“This is pretty thorough.”   
A bubble of anxiety popped at his words. “Well, I learned from the best.”   
“I would suggest trying the police reports as well as the coroner reports, but otherwise I’m impressed.”   
“How far have you guys gotten on it?”   
“Coroner’s office, same as you. We were planning on hitting the police station tomorrow to see if they have any leads, but I’m not expecting much. All of the victims died from apparent suffocation, full panel tox screen came back negative, the ME even documented that there were no visible puncture marks.”   
“I had a few thoughts on what it could be…”   
“I saw that, we can check off a few of those already. I see you’ve already ruled out the Sihyanaba and the Estries but you can also check off Strigoi as a potential. Strigoi and Shtriga are pretty similar in feeding patterns and there are no obvious signs of either on the vics. I’ve never encountered a Succubus or Undine before so those have potential.”   
“So, what’s the next step, boss?”   
“I’m going to call Dean and see where he is. We should come up with a plan, but until then I guess we just do research.”   
“Alright, maybe I should go out and get something more substantial to eat then?”   
“Probably a good idea, I don’t think a sandwich and salad are going to cut it tonight.”   
Sam placed the file back down on the bed and grabbed his pants off the floor, pulling his cellphone free from the fabric. I watched him dial a number and place the call on speaker, I supposed so Dean could also lecture me on how reckless and stupid I was.   
“Hey, where’d you go?” Dean answered, sounding a bit gruff.   
“About four doors down. Mara’s here.”   
“Dude, you called your girlfriend?”   
“Uh… no.” I replied. “I was here before you.”   
Dean was silent for so long I almost thought he’d hung up. “Sam already read you the riot act?”   
“Yes, sir.”   
“Alright. I’ll be down in a few.”   
Dean hung up the phone before we could protest, knowing that he would be walking in on the disaster that was the hotel room after our little sexcapade. Dean wouldn’t let either of us live it down if he saw it. Sam stood and pulled his pants on over his underwear, quick to button it, me on the other hand knew that wasn’t nearly enough time to put on an outfit, so I grabbed a pair of jeans from my duffel and jammed them over my legs. I went to the door just as Dean knocked, swinging it open and allowing him to enter before walking away, knowing he was giving Sam a look over my shoulder.   
“You two didn’t wait long, did you?”   
I spotted Sam shrugging his shoulders at Dean’s comment, and returning to sit on the bed near all the files and books. “Like you can talk.”   
“I’m gonna go get changed and get some food from the diner down the street, text me your orders.”   
I grabbed a black long-sleeved shirt from my duffel and my bra from the floor near the bed and went into the bathroom to change, but relaxed against the door once I had closed it. This was not how everything was supposed to go, and I am sure that this won’t be the last time I hear about it, but all in all it was going well. Donning my clothes, I went over to the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. I very obviously had sex hair and my make-up was smudged around my eyes but it was easy enough to fix with a quick brush and a wipe to clean up the lines. Once I was again presentable to the general public, I left the bathroom and grabbed a light pink leather jacket and slid it over my arms, holding the edges and nodding at the boys.   
“What do you think? Presentable?”   
Dean rolled his eyes. “Pink leather, what a travesty.”   
“You love it.” I grinned. “Alright, I’ll be back.”   
I left the room, making sure to stuff my wallet and keys for both my car and made my way off to the diner, feeling a lot more lighthearted and certainly a lot less anxious.   
*********

I made it back to the hotel room with food in hand and my mind working like a hamster on a wheel, coming at the case from every angle and coming up with nothing. It might have something to do with my lack of experience, and my fear of getting it wrong that I couldn’t think of anything specific.   
“I’m back!”   
The boys were sitting on the bed, pouring over books and notes, Sam with my laptop propped on his lap leaning against the headboard while Dean sat at the foot, hunched over the reports. They both looked up as I walked into the room and moved to make room for me to sit next to Sam at the head of the bed. I handed Dean his meal, a juicy hamburger with all the fixing and a large order of fries, a set of silverware and watched him practically salivate over it. Sam was less visually appreciative of the chicken Caesar salad I handed him but seemed pleased with my choice as he dug into it, I, of course, chose the extremely healthy steak quesadilla with guacamole and sour cream. Oh, so healthy. I ate with gusto as Sam handed me one of the lore books, pointing to a page on succubae and incubi. I took the book and began to read.   
We all stayed like this for almost half an hour before I came across something interesting.   
“Alright, so I’m not sure it’s a succubus.” I placed the book down as the boys looked up. “From what it says here, succubae are a kind of demons who feed on victims while they’re asleep, but the cause of death is more cardiac than respiratory.”   
“Did the ME note any sulfur?”   
“Not that I can see, but it’s not exactly standard. After initial evidence collection they wash the bodies so it’s not likely we’ll find it after the fact either.” Dean said, thumbing through the coroner’s reports.   
“We should keep it on the table until after we investigate the homes, and hope they haven’t done a deep clean yet.”   
“Anything on Undine?” I asked Sam.   
“It’s Greek, water spirit, typically female and feeds on men. Doesn’t say much on the feed signature though.”   
“Didn’t Bobby say that he’d fought one before?” Dean asked.  
“I think so, you have his journal?”   
“Yeah, right here.”   
Dean handed Sam a old leather-bound journal that looked like it was being held together with string and bad dreams, the thing was probably as old as Dean and looked like it had been through a washer a few times. I watched as Sam thumbed through it, pausing on a page before speaking again.   
“So, yeah, he did encounter one. Looks like he was on a merchant ship from Japan and people started disappearing. He doesn’t say a whole lot, only that they’re a lot like mermaids. It also says they can shapeshift, are extraordinarily strong and…..” he sighs. “… they’re invulnerable to weapons.”   
“Let’s hope it’s not that then.” I responded. “What about the victims themselves, is there anything in common there?”   
“Other than cause of death and the fact that they were recently married? Not that I can tell, they don’t have any physical features in common, don’t work in the same place or have the same friends. They don’t really even seem to cross the same paths except in the standard places for a small town.”   
“What about their wives?”   
“Police reports don’t have much on the wives other than them being suspects, but even that is pretty circumstantial without a definitive cause other than respiratory failure and there’s the problem with the lack of motive. Only a couple had life insurance policies, most were blue collar workers pretty living paycheck to paycheck, and none of the wives reported any infidelity.” Sam piped in, reading from one of the reports Dean had brought with him.   
“Yeah, because if my husband had just died under weird circumstances, I would definitely tell the cops.” I snarked.   
“Good point, I guess our next step is to go to the last victim’s house and talk to the wife but until then, I think I’m going to crash.”   
Dean moved off the bed, shuffling books and papers around until they formed a semi-neat pile, with an off-handed wave and a knowing look towards Sam, Dean walked right out the door, presumably to return to his room. Sam made no move to leave, still looking at my laptop, still comfortably leaning against the headboard as though he had no a care in the world.   
“I’m assuming you’re staying then?”   
“Yup.”   
“Were you gonna ask? A girl does need her beauty rest.”   
Sam gave me a look that said I wouldn’t be getting much rest tonight, and for the record, I was not complaining about the prospect. “Alright, well, shall we get ready for bed then?”   
I stood up and began gathering papers and books from the bed, placing them on the dresser making sure that the police reports and coroner reports were on top so they were easy to grab. From my duffel, I grabbed a pair of wide-leg black slacks, a pale blue button blouse and a set of underwear and placed those on the dresser as well, making sure to smooth the wrinkles out and resigned myself to having to iron them out in the morning.   
“You should probably grab your uniform for tomorrow, so you don’t have to do the walk of shame tomorrow morning.”   
“Good idea.”   
Sam closed the lid of the laptop and placed it on the bedside table. I watched him as he walked through the room, taking time to watch the play of light across his, frankly, amazing musculature from the bulge of his biceps flexing as he placed the laptop down to the clench of his abs as he leaned down to grab his shirt from the bathroom floor. He was a spectacularly made man. I began undressing as he walked out the door, removing my jacket and dropping it one of the chairs in the living area then slipping my shirt and jeans off until I stood in just my underwear. I debated putting on my usual bedtime clothes of a tank top and panties, but ultimately decided against it since I was sure that it wouldn’t stay on for very long. I unclasped my bra and slid my panties back over my legs, dropping both into the plastic laundry bag provided by the motel and making a mental note to pack it up when I left. Sam returned just as I finished undressing, his duffel tight in his grasp but soon relocated to the floor as he flipped off the lights and strode over to me, backing me up until we both fell onto the bed. 

***********  
The next morning found the three of us dressed to the nines in pant suits, the boys with FBI badges and me with a CDC badge clipped to our lapels. I envied them though, where it had taken Sam twenty minutes to get ready even with a shower, it had taken me forty minutes to get my hair under control again and at the very least a natural make-up look. I wanted to look presentable though, with no stray hairs or raccoon eyes, and unfortunately, it took time, even if I hated (and if I’m honest, I sucked at) doing make-up.   
“Alright, one car?” Sam asked.   
“Sounds good to me.”   
We all piled into the Impala, Sam and Dean in the front seat and me in the back with a briefcase containing all the files we had collected and my laptop on the off chance we would need it before returning to the motel. Dean pulled out the parking lot and headed out towards the center of town where the latest victim and his wife lived. I looked out the window as Dean drove, watching the scenery pass by while listening to whatever hair band he had put in the player today. We were all silent on the short drive, all of us assuming our false identities and thinking about the case. Hopefully, today would shed some light on what we were facing so we could put an end to whatever was preying on this town.   
“Alright, Sam and I are going to question the wife, Mara I want you to check out the house.”   
“Yes, sir!”   
Sam seemed to freeze in his seat for a minute, and I almost regretted saying those two words, but knowing that I had such a profound effect on him was more than a little gratifying. Sam exited the car, moving the seat forward to let me out of the back, he rolled his shoulders as he shut the door and straightened his suit jacket. The house was a tan colored two story single family home with a recessed entrance, it looked like it had been recently remodeled but still had the bones of a house built in eighties with narrow windows that were oddly placed along the front of the house. The yard was patchy, as though it hadn’t been treated or cared for in a few weeks and the small flower patch that wrapped around the right-side corner of the house was in desperate need of weeding. We approached the house, taking notice of the parked cars in the driveway to be sure that someone was here, and moved single file to the red painted door. Dean knocked on the door, peeking into the warped glass of the front door to see if he could spot anyone coming towards the door, when no one did he knocked again, more firmly this time. A moment later the door swung open to reveal a woman in her late twenties dressed in a purple bathroom, pale blue pajamas and looked as though she had seen better days with obviously unwashed hair and a tear streaked face.   
“What do you want?” She said, her voice strained and aggressive.   
“Are you Mrs. Molinaro?” Dean asked, obviously attempting to inject a little sympathy into his voice.   
“Yes, who are you?”   
“My name is Dean Gibbons, this is my partner Sam Hill, we’re with the FBI investigating your husband’s death, and the lady behind us is Mara Hanniger with the CDC.”   
“I’ve already spoken to the police.”   
“It’s routine, Ma’am. We happened to be in the area and offered to help local law enforcement with the case load. If you would prefer, we can come back another day.” Sam smiled at her, his best puppy dog expression on his face as he spoke.   
“Alright, would you like to come in?”   
The woman opened the door wide and stepped aside so we could enter, I took note of the neat line of shoes along the wall near the front door and the jackets hung on a hook, it didn’t look like either had been disturbed since the man had died. The inside had the same remodeled vibe with new wood paneled doorways and a fresh coat of warm tan paint on the walls, she walked into the living room right off the front room and gestured for us to sit on a dark leather couch against the wall. I sat on the edge of the couch, smoothing my pants and placing my hands in my lap as I waited for the boys to settle down, and for the lady to slump down in a floral-patterned wingback chair. She didn’t seem to care that we were there, too mired in her misery to register much beyond sitting in that chair and drinking whatever was at the bottle of her high ball glass. My heart cracked at the sight.   
“Mrs. Molinaro..”   
“Call me Bea.”   
“Bea, did your husband had any history of respiratory problems that you knew of?”   
“No. Never even heard a wheeze in the five years we’d been together unless he had the flu.”   
“Did he show any symptoms before…” I trailed off, trying not to open fresh wounds.   
“Before he died? Not as far as I know.”   
“No seizures? Confusion? Migraines?”   
“No. The only thing he complained about before that night was that he was more tired than usual, I figured it was stress from the new job.”   
“Do you mind if I look around a little?” I asked as gently as I could.   
“Have at it, although I doubt you’ll find anything, the crime techs who trashed my room couldn’t find anything.”   
“Thank you, ma’am, I’ll be back in a moment.”   
I stood up from the couch and walked back to the front room, keeping my eyes sharp for any potential evidence that might pinpoint what we were hunting, I figured the best place to start was upstairs since the latest victim had died in his bedroom. I walked up the carpeted stairs to the second floor, looking at the pictures hung on the wall, pictures of the couple, happy pictures of two people deeply in love. It was heartbreaking to say the least. The second floor was much like the first, the walls along the hallways all in dark paneled wood and light-colored carpet, new paneling along the doorways, even the doors looked brand new to the house. On either side of the hallway, there were four doors, some I assume were bedrooms and one looked like it might be a bathroom if the glimpse of the tiled floor was any indication. The first room I poked my head into was a study of some kind, a couple of desks with computers sat against the opposite wall and tall bookshelves lined with an assortment of different books loomed along the wall closest to me. I didn’t see anything of interest but decided to look around, keeping a close eye for anything that might be out of the ordinary. When that failed, I figured I would give the other two rooms a look. The next room seemed to be in the middle of the remodel, the walls half painted in a bright shade of yellow, huge swathes of plastic coating the floor with tins of paint on the floor. One some walls they had stenciled little bears with green bows, giving me the impression that it was a room that they hoped would be a nursery soon. I closed the door on the room after a cursory inspection. The last room looked like the master bedroom with a large four poster bed at the back of the room, clothes littering the floor and a large white album bearing a picture of a wedding in a slot on the front. From the looks of things, it seemed as though Bea spent a lot of time in this room with his clothes and their wedding album.   
The bed itself was rumpled and wrinkled as though it hadn’t been washed or made in several days, tear stains on the pillow and crumpled napkins created a halo of soul-crushing sadness around the head of the bed. I moved to the opposite side of the bed, closer to the windows along the far wall, and carefully lifted the coverlet to look at the husband’s side of the bed. There were no outward signs of foul play, no sulfur around the bed or obvious signs of struggle such as scratch marks on the bedposts or headboard, blood stains were out too. It looked as though he had just rolled out of bed that morning and gone to work. I turned the pillow over, looking to see if there were any marks indicated smothering as a potential cause of death, but again zilch. I had almost given up when I spotted an odd stain on the carpet, right next to his side of the bed. The carpet in the hallway and in the bedrooms had been brand new without any stains on them, but here there were two odd shaped stains that almost looked like water damage in the shape of two feet. Very odd to say the least. I snapped a picture of the stain with my phone and left the room, careful not to disturb anything on my way out.   
When I returned to the living room downstairs, Dean and Sam were just standing up, Bea still seated in the chair drinking deeply from the glass and looking like she couldn’t care less that we were there. I nodded to the boys, indicating that I was done with my search.   
“Thanks for talking with us, Mrs. Molinaro and again, we’re very sorry for your loss.” Sam held out his hand to shake hers, but awkwardly placed it back at his side when she made no move to do the same.   
“I’ll leave you my card with my number on it should you think of anything else.”   
Dean placed a business card on the table next to her glass, nodding to Bea with a small smile. We left the house, the boys leading out the door again and we piled back into the car, hopefully with more information than we had come in with.   
“You guys find anything?”   
“Nope. Other than being recently married, it seems like the victims had nothing in common.”   
“I didn’t find much either, other than a weird stain on the husband’s side of the bed. I don’t know if it means anything, but the room isn’t exactly close to the master bedroom and it’s oddly shaped as though someone had been standing there soaking wet. I’m thinking that we should check the other vic’s houses, maybe they’ll have the same thing.”   
“Probably a good idea.” Dean replied, starting the car easily. 

************  
It was close to dinner time by the time we returned to the motel with a bag of food from the diner, and a six-pack of beer to split between the three of us. We’d hit four houses today with only one other house having that same odd stain on the floor, it might not mean anything, but it was something to work with and it was another point of interest that connected two victims. Sam handed me the bag of food and the drinks, indicating that him and Dean were going back to their room to change before we all piled into my room for the rest of the night. I wasn’t sure when it had been decided that my room was home-base but I certainly wasn’t complaining about having company while doing more research and blowing off some steam. We were a little closer to figuring it out but the plan was a little shaky since we had already collected all the reports and had spoken with the widows. I entered the room and placed both the food and the drinks on the couch near the front door, and made my way to the bathroom, grabbing a pair of black yoga pants and a blue spaghetti strapped tank top to change into. My devolution into a hermit person, however, began with pulling all the pins out of my hair and throwing it into a messy bun at the back of my head and wiping away the little make-up I wore with a cleansing cloth. I changed fairly quickly after that, knowing the boys would be returning soon, and exited the bathroom just as someone rapped at the door.   
“Who is it?” I sing-songed at the door.   
“It’s us.”   
I crossed the room again and swung open the door to reveal the two brothers in jeans and plaid (their usual battle armor) and waved them inside. They sat on the couch, Sam pulling food out of the white paper bag and placing the different meals around the table.   
“So, do we think it’s an Undine then?” I asked.   
“I’m gonna guess so. There were no signs of sulfur at any of the houses, and none of the usual signs of demonic activity in the area so that rules out the succubus for now. Problem with it being an undine is that we have no idea how to kill it.” Sam replied, obviously frustrated with the lack of progress.   
“Bobby didn’t make any notes about how to kill it?”   
“Bobby didn’t know how to kill it, he says that he’d pumped several rounds into one and it walked away like it was nothing. He does suspect that as a water elemental that it might be vulnerable to fire or extreme heat.”   
I thought about it for a moment. “We have to work on the knowledge we have, we know that all the victims were recently married, so maybe we check newspapers from the last couple weeks and see if there are any newly weds that we can keep an eye on.”   
It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, originally I was going to have this end after three chapters, but I wanted to have a poll of sorts as to how the story can go. 
> 
> 1.) TFW keep an eye on a newly married couple and defeat it   
> 2.) There are no newly wed couples and they have to get married in order to lure it out 
> 
> I thought it would be too cheesy, but I figured if people wanted to see it, I would write it.   
> Please, please, please review! It keeps me motivated! 
> 
> Thanks!   
> Write on!


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